y toward two strangers, and even
foreigners, he said that this world occupied so small a space in God's
dominion, that we could well afford to be brothers, one to another, in
spite of our individual beliefs and opinions. "We may have different
religious beliefs," said he, "but we all belong to the same great father
of humanity; just as children of different complexions, dispositions, and
intellects may belong to one common parent. We should exercise reason
always, and have charity for other people's opinions."

From charity the conversation naturally turned to justice. We were much
interested in his opinion on this subject, as that of a Turkish judge, and
rather high official. "Justice," said he, "should be administered to the
humblest person; though a king should be the offending party, all alike
must yield to the sacred law of justice. We must account to God for our
acts, and not to men."

The regular route from Sivas to Erzerum passes through Erzinjan. From
this, however, we diverged at Zara, in order to visit the city of Kara
Hissar, and the neighboring Lidjissy mines, which had been pioneered by
the Genoese explorers, and were now being worked by a party of Englishmen.
This divergence on to unbeaten paths was made at a very inopportune
season; for the rainy spell set in, which lasted, with scarcely any
intermission, for over a fortnight. At the base of Kosse Dagh, which
stands upon the watershed between the two largest rivers of Asia Minor,
the Kizil Irmak and Yeshil Irmak, our road was blocked by a mountain
freshet, which at its height washed everything before it. We spent a day
and night on its bank, in a primitive flour-mill, which was so far removed
from domestic life that we had to send three miles up in the mountains to
get something to eat. The Yeshil Irmak, which we crossed just before
reaching Kara Hissar, was above our shoulders as we waded through, holding
our bicycles and baggage over our heads; while the swift current rolled
the small boulders against us, and almost knocked us off our feet. There
were no bridges in this part of the country. With horses and wagons the
rivers were usually fordable; and what more would you want? With the Turk,
as with all Asiatics, it is not a question of what is better, but what
will do. Long before we reached a stream, the inhabitants of a certain
town or village would gather round, and with troubled countenances say,
"Christian gentlemen--there is no bridge," pointing